An Exhausted Empress & A Tactful Elf
by Sarroush
Summary: Celene regretted many of her actions that caused Briala to leave, which is why she was thankful to the Inquisitor for having reunited them during the ball. But what exactly happened between the Empress and her lover once the peace treaties were over and all the nobles went home? Rated M for some Lemon. Masked Empire & Inquisition spoilers.


**A/N: **Hey there! This is a one-shot about Empress Celene & Briala after the events at the Winter Palace. When I was playing the game (Inquisition) when it came out, I was not aware of the Masked Empire. I pretty much fell in love with Celene and the overall idea that these two were in fact lovers. I recently got my hands on the Masked Empire, and thought it to be an amazing novel. I was a bit upset how halfassed the development between Celene & Briala was in the game, even though they're side characters, but nonetheless, I wanted to write a little something to compliment the ending of that quest.

Contains spoilers for The Masked Empire & Dragon Age Inquisition, as well as some lemon!

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><p>It was a strange feeling. The nobles and guests had all recently left the Winter Palace. The peace treaties were over and Orlais was safe for the time being. Celene had made her position clear and had given new found hope to her people with the Inquisitor's help. The palace, no, all of Halamshiral was now covered in strange silence. There was sound of course. Servants were moving around, cleaning the ballroom, kitchens, quarters and yet there was still an emptiness in the air, in her heart. As she made her way through the halls of the Palace, she couldn't help but think of all that had happened in a single night. She'd been able to put an end to the civil war plaguing her dearest Orlais, the man attempting to overthrow her would soon be executed and she had been reunited with her lover. The woman she loved so dearly and yet hurt so deeply.<p>

"Empress, your frown is quite obvious through your half mask," her advisor of the occult whispered as she walked past her and into one of the doors leading to the grand library.

Ah, Morrigan. The woman was a strangely valuable asset to her. Celene respected her and her powers, and though the mage was a bit frightening at times, enjoyed her company nonetheless. Morrigan filled the hole in Celene's heart, not as a replacement, but as a distraction. She would tell the Empress stories of demons, magic, dragons. Stories that would make Celene gasp in awe at times, frown with sadness during others. They were not lovers. Oh heavens no. Celene could not fathom the idea of laying in bed with someone other than her beloved. It was unfortunate that she let the Game get the better of her. Briala meant the world to the Empress and she failed her. At the time, Celene had done what she'd believed to be the correct course of action to protect Orlais and her people. She loved Briala but she couldn't give the woman what she'd wanted in a heartbeat. But, did it have to be in a heartbeat? She could have more than likely put out a bit more influence, a bit more change. Something to keep Briala content. But the looming fear of a civil war had clouded her judgement severely.

She shook her head. She needed rest. Morrigan must have started packing for her trip to Skyhold. She hoped the mage would prove useful to the Inquisition, however she had no doubts in her capabilities. Letting out a sigh, she continued her walk through the halls. Halamshiral was a gorgeous place, but it was also filled with bitter memories.

"Though all is well for now, should you really be lowering your guard like that?" The familiar, loving, scolding voice let out, snapping Celene from her reverie. Looking around, she'd noticed she had ended up in the Guest Wing, her destination. Given the Royal Wing had been locked down temporarily, they had moved her to the largest room in the Guest Wing. It was still not suitable for an Empress, but alas, she had stopped caring about such trivialities.

"Bria..." No. She had no right to address her so casually. Not after all the pain she'd caused the woman she supposedly loved. She had been very grateful though a bit unnerved that the Inquisitor had gone through her treasury. She'd never wanted to come across the locket again, mostly because she'd reasoned with herself that Briala was part of her past. A failure of a past she never wished to revisit. And yet, deep down, she always knew that her love for the elf was so much so that her heart ached every time she thought of her or heard her name. Having her stand in front of her now, she wondered if the elven woman wanted revenge. She couldn't blame her. Even though Celene knew full well that she could not let Briala kill her, a part of her wanted it. She deserved it for all the pain she caused her. It was all part of the Game. It wasn't anything personal. No, far from it. The death of Briala's parents, burning down the slums where the rebel elves were...None of it was personal. Celene needed to protect Orlais. She needed to protect her people and cut off the bad roots. But she hurt her lover terribly as a result. She knew Briala would forgive her no matter what, and yet, that brought her no comfort. If it was Briala. If the person on the other side of the sword, holding it by its hilt, was Briala, she may have let her have her way. She might have allowed her blood to stain the grounds of Halamshiral.

"Ambassador Briala," she corrected herself. "Do you wish an audience?"

"You don't have to be so formal, _Celene._"

It pierced her heart. Looking at her only lover, she was filled with so many emotions she could let out now. She'd told the guards not to follow her. It was very risky, given the amount of deaths that took place during the night, but she insisted on it. In the end, even she knew how to protect herself. She'd wanted to be alone, to think, to feel. And now she was. She was alone with the only woman who'd ever made her feel alive. She wanted to cry. Oh how she wanted to let the tears fall. But it would be an insult. She had no right to cry. No. The only person with that right in the halls of the Winter Palace, the only person allowed to shed tears was the elven Ambassador standing before her.

"But no. Though I am grateful to the Inquisitor for having shown us a few things, I believe it is a bit too late into the night for any kind of audience," the elven woman turned around. Celene had offered her one of the guest rooms to which she had given her appreciation. As she turned the door knob to walk in, the Empress let out a single whimper.

"Bria..."

The Ambassador stopped moving for a second. Two small strides later, she felt warmth behind her. The body wasn't touching hers, but they were scarily close. She knew that warmth. She knew the smell. They all brought back memories. Good ones, bad ones. Oh how she wanted to turn around. How she wanted to wrap her arms around her lover's neck, rest in her chest, lay kisses on her body. But it was too soon. She needed time to think.

"Have a good night, Your Radiance," she whispered, opening the door to her chambers and closing it behind her.

The Empress' mind had gone completely blank. Briala's warmth...Her scent, her body. How she craved for it all. But she had no right to any of it. Letting out a long sigh, she continued walking, finally arriving to her room. She couldn't wait to return to Val Royeaux. Taking off her ungodly uncomfortable heels and ball gown, she threw them to the side with her mask. Undoing her hair and letting it fall, she slumped face first on the bed, completely naked save for her lower body undergarment. She should've taken a bath but she was too exhausted. A servant would come soon. Even in Halamshiral, she would have a nightly back massage. She'd never needed it before, but that was simply due to the fact that Briala would offer one almost every night. When their relationship had crumbled to dust, she realized that she craved the contact more than ever. She'd have servants she trusted come to her room and attempt to give her massages. Some were good, others were bad. But none were as skilled as her lover had been. Briala's fingers were magic. They made knots go away, muscles relax, an exhausted Empress rejuvenate.

Clutching a pillow, her face hidden in the bed, she whimpered quietly. She couldn't cry yet. She couldn't show weakness in front of servants. She'd compose herself when she heard footsteps. When the door opened. She'd tell them what to do. Where to touch. How much force to use. They would be a disappointment of course, because they weren't her lover.

Just as she was going to continue her thoughts, a gentle finger began tracing symbols on her back. Who was it? How on earth could she not hear them? Though she had been an Empress for over 20 years, she was still taught the way of the Bards. Her hearing and reflexes were impeccable, so why? Why did she not hear this servant?

"Oh," realization hit her as exhaustion began piling up. She closed her eyes as the proficient hands began working on her back. The night had done a number on her muscles, knots everywhere. Balls were always a pain, leaving her exhausted. How she craved to be rejuvenated. How she craved to be 20 again. She wasn't that old. She was merely 36, and yet, she felt as though she was 60 at times.

Briala would have probably laughed her complaints off, comforting her, telling her how it was all in her head. She'd wrap her arms around her Empress' body, rest her head on her chest and sleep the night away, worry free.

These hands were good. Why were they so good? Why did they have to bring back the past? Her eyes, though closed, began to water. Her voice cracked and she let out a whimper, muffled in the bed, but still hearable. Her eyes widened. She'd let weakness show. Even if it was four in the morning, she could not allow any weakness to show to servants or anyone else!

She wanted to turn around and tell the servant to leave, but instead, she felt a pair of lips rest on the back of her neck as though her masseuse was asking her to relax. But she couldn't. It became clear to her who was touching her. She let out a louder sob, clutching onto the pillow, as tears began staining her pale cheeks and leaving marks on the white cover of the pillow.

The servant finished massaging the Empress' back and started going down to her legs. The pressure was magnificent. Just the right amount. As the hands slowly made their way to her feet, Celene let out a hearty laugh through her tears. She was ticklish, she couldn't help it. Though at times, she could control the need to laugh, she was too exhausted at the moment. Her eyes were already stained with tears, what did it matter if she let out a laugh or two?

She felt trails of kisses being laid on her legs as the servant slowly began removing the one piece of clothing the Empress still had on. Celene's tears continued as she mumbled the same things repeatedly. "I'm sorry. " "Forgive me." "I failed you."

They weren't entirely appropriate to let out during such an intimate moment, for fear of ruining things, but she needed to say it. She needed her masseuse to know. The servant threw the undergarment next to the ball gown and placed two hands on top of Celene's exposed rear. Nails dug into Celene's skin as she felt the servant massage her cheeks with the right amount of pressure. Oh how she'd missed this touch. Too long. It had been too long. But did she have a right to enjoy it? No. Of course not. Just as her tears had stopped, a new wave began. She was an Empress for crying out loud! Some behaviour this was.

As her lower body began reacting to the touch, she let out a sob, louder than previous ones. "I love you," she cried out, her face still on the bed.

"I know," the servant whispered as she slowly slid a lone finger into her Empress' core, causing the woman to moan out in fear and sadness, but also, happiness. She was so wet. So ready. All for this one woman. The servant lowered herself on top of Celene, leaving bite marks all over her back as the single finger worked her lover's body into a frenzy. Oh how tight she was. It pleased the elf that the woman had probably been celibate all this time. Though a part of her still hated Celene for all that she had done to her family, to the elves, another part adored her. How vulnerable she was at that moment. The Empress of Orlais, moaning, groaning, begging, crying. It was a gorgeous scene. The woman under her turned her head to the right, exposing her face. She no longer cared for what image she may have been showing.

"Bria...Bria..." She moaned, closing her eyes, biting her bottom lip. Moving one of her hands from under the pillow, she attempted to touch the woman on top of her. However, the swift elf took both the Empress' hands with her free one, pinning them down over her head. Celene would not get what she wanted. Not at that moment at least.

"Bria, please..." The lone finger had ceased to be enough. She wanted more. She craved for more. Leaving a large bite mark near her left shoulder blade, the servant whispered, "Beg, Your Radiance."

A simple requirement. But it meant lowering herself. Would she do it? Would she stoop so low as to beg for release? She would. Only because of the person delivering it. "P-please. Bria, please give me more." She blushed, lowering her eyes, unable to move as the teasing continued.

"Not enough," she stopped.

"No. No, Bria, please. Please don't stop!" Celene became frantic. After all the stress, after all the worries, the dangers, she needed this release like her life depended on it. "I'm sorry. Please, I'll do it properly, please don't stop!"

She had no choice. She had to become as submissive as possible. She was never entirely a slave to carnal desires whenever with her lover, as she still held some power over their love making whether she was on the receiving end or not. But now, now Briala was forcing her hand. She had no choice but to obey the woman she had hurt so deeply.

"Please. Please Briala, please take me over the edge. Please allow me release. I am begging you. Both as the Empress and a simple woman, I am begging you. Please!" When Briala made no move to continue, Celene let out a broken cry. She had no idea what to do. You could only say "please" so many times. As she let out a quiet sob, the touch began again. She let out a breath of relief and a quick gasp as she felt the intrusion of another finger in her heat. "We need to teach you how to properly beg next time," the elf whispered seductively, kissing the blonde's cheek, as the woman slowly reached her climax.

"Bria, Bria," she began like a chant as her lover picked up speed."Bria, I-I, I can't-"

"I know," the dark haired elf kissed a freshly fallen tear on her lover's cheek. "Have your release," right at that moment, Celene's body spasmed as she let out a loud tearful moan.

Briala released her lover's hands and held her back to her as her body slowly came down from its high. The shuddering and shivering of the Empress' body ceased, and so did her tears. The last words Briala heard before the blonde ruler of Orlais fell asleep, completely drained and exhausted were, "Does my hair still stink of smoke?"

Briala's eyes widened for a moment, before recomposing herself. Turning the Empress on her side, the elven Ambassador wrapped an arm around the naked woman's waist, the other resting on the back of her head as she brought her to sleep on her chest, bringing in the silk bed covers over them.

"You're a fool, Celene. Your hair will always stink of the smoke from the people you burned and your skin will always taste of the blood from the people you killed. You wounded me. You killed my parents. You burned an entire alienage to the ground. You broke my heart. And yet, here I am. Back where I'd told myself I'd never return, regardless of how I felt for you. Your Radiance, I don't think I can ever forgive you for what you've done, even if I understand your actions wholeheartedly. However, even if I can never forgive you, I will forever stay by your side, and I will always love you. You stole my heart and I don't think I want it back. I'm downright foolish, aren't I?"

Letting out a quiet sigh, she kissed the pale forehead of her lover, tangled their legs together, and drifted off to sleep. When the sun decided to rise in a few hours, they would sit down and have a long conversation about the past, present and future. Once their discussions reached their conclusion however, Briala hoped that regardless of their flaws, they would undoubtedly end up together once more. After all, when Celene cried out 'I love you,' Briala secretly did the same.

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><p><strong>AN:** I honestly wouldn't have minded making a multi-chapter fic, but I like where I ended this and I have too many other stories that need work on them :( Maybe some day I'll write a bit more for these two. In any event, I hope you enjoyed it. R&R is appreciated!


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